How Li Na put the fun back into tennis

Li Na jokes that her second thought after the unfortunate post-fireworks stumble that almost left her concussed during last year's Australian Open final was for her sore, heavy head. Her first thought? ''I was worried Melbourne maybe have to fix the court,'' laughs the tournament's two-time runner-up and 2011 French Open champion.

Which is typical Li, the wisecracking Chinese pioneer and first Asian player to win a grand slam singles title, who last year appeared on the cover of a Time magazine issue that named her among the world's 100 most influential people. She is second behind Maria Sharapova in annual earnings among global sportswomen, was hailed by the great Chris Evert as having ''transcended her sport'' like Billie Jean King and Martina Navratilova before her, and described by WTA president Stacey Allaster as the decade's most important player, given her status in the sport's biggest growth market.

''The lucky thing for me is [when I'm not out] with my husband,'' says China's highest-profile female athlete on how she can exist relatively unnoticed. ''Nobody know who I am, so I can do so many things. Like, if I go shopping, or something, if I walking in the road in China, if I without husband, nobody can see, 'Ah, this is Li Na', because every time in the match the TV always show him, so he is like more [famous].''

Perhaps not, but the answer is a cue for more smiles from the charismatic 31-year-old, who finished the season at a career-high No. 3, the best result ever by an Asian player. Still, it was only seven months ago that Li, Jiang and coach Carlos Rodriguez endured a silent drive back from Sussex to south-west London to prepare for Wimbledon, a tournament that a despondent Li threatened not to contest.

Advertisement

An ordinary claycourt season culminating in a second-round wipeout at Roland Garros had been followed by a quick visit home to Wuhan to regroup before a quarter-final loss to Elena Vesnina in the grasscourt warm-up event in Eastbourne. Li was feeling bad, she recalls. Sad. Throughout the two-and-a-half hour road trip to Wimbledon, no one spoke.

''When we arriving in Wimbledon I say to Carlos, 'Eh, Carlos, look, I want to retire','' Li said. ''And normally I would think that Carlos for sure would say, 'No, don't do that, like we try', but Carlos was like, 'OK, let's go home. Go. Yeah'. And I was like, 'What?'

''In Chinese way, we didn't like to speak out, so everything just holds [inside] for the self, so he say, 'You should try to speak out to let us know what happens'. I was like, 'OK, maybe we try, the last tournament, to see how it's going in Wimbledon. If going well, I will continue. If not, maybe just over'. So he was like, 'OK, let's try it. One more chance'.''

That next week, Li's career epitaph was almost carved out on court three by Czech Klara Zakopalova, who served for the match in what was a grim two-hour-plus struggle, before Li prevailed 8-6 in the third set. Later, she would say it felt as good as reaching a grand slam final. So would she have retired? Was she serious? ''I think it's good choice,'' she answers, sort of. ''At least I'm not stopped, I'm not make the stupid decision, you know.''

Instead, her form improved markedly during the US hardcourt swing, and it took Serena Williams to stop Li in three of her last four tournaments in a 2013 season in which she failed to achieve her grand slam goal, but reached at least the quarter-finals of every non-clay event she entered, and thus rates as the most consistent of her career.

''I am very proud of her but at the same time there's still big work to do because she still don't realise how good she is,'' says Rodriguez, whose on-court successes have included improving Li's serve-volley activity and ability. ''She's an amazing worker and a very respectful person and she try to always improve and try to tell to herself that it's possible to do better.

''She told me, 'Now I feel like I can rely on myself more than before. I can count on me more than before', which is good, but I still thinking that she can do better. Now is also up to her the desire that she is gonna have … to go back to work, to improve different things on court, but the most difficult work is inside.''

That involves freeing Li of the negative emotions that can constrict and afflict her, and the one-time rebel speaks positively of how much Rodriguez - the career-long mentor of former Belgian great Justine Henin - has helped her, both professionally, and otherwise, since they united in mid-2012. Jiang, for starters, is now just a husband again, if also still the butt of many of his wife's good-natured jokes.

Asked on stage at the WTA Championships whether she was enjoying Istanbul, for example, Li quipped that she would be having more fun if she was travelling solo. So, does Jiang ever ask her to be a little kinder, publicly? ''I think he has big heart, so he understand what I'm talking about. He also is funny guy,'' says Li, while agreeing it is easier now that their relationship is purely personal.

''Yeah, I think Carlos saved my life, saved my marriage, you know. I think now we have very good communication, not like before, because [being] coach and husband is very tough to find the balance.''

Indeed, although Li wants eventually to be a housewife, and was once a journalism student, she says she is a tennis player less dulled by age than enriched by experience, with as little thought of retiring as the barely older Serena Williams. She is fit, and loving tennis now, so ''will continue until maybe one day I say, 'Oh, my body couldn't handle it more'.'' Then children? ''At least two. One each.'' Will she be a good housewife? ''I try to be!''

First, though, she is back for another try at Melbourne Park, the scene of two of her three grand slam finals - a 2011 loss to Kim Clijsters, then 2013's dramatic contest against Victoria Azarenka, competitive three-setters both. Last year, after claiming the first set 6-4, the crowd favourite twisted her ankle in the second set, then fell again and hit her head in the third, prompting thoughts of how different the result, and Li's year, might easily have been.

While the ever-pragmatic Rodriguez does not waste time on what-ifs, he believes Li could benefit from a chat with the retired new-mother Henin, whom she has never met, believing his charge still does not always make the right tactical decisions in important moments or show enough positive emotion on court. But he also believes Melbourne Park may well provide Li's best chance of winning another singles major. ''I think it's maybe the best conditions for her. That is what I see. Especially the beginning of the year she's more fresh and pressure-less,'' says Rodriguez, nominating Li as a ''good outsider'' for the title, her opening match coming on Monday against boom teenage qualifier Ana Konjuh, of Croatia. ''But it's so difficult to predict. The work is going to be done to try to improve different sectors of the court to give her more confidence, to go out there in the quarters and the semis to go out there and play big tennis. This is the challenge.''

Li identifies the Australian Open as her favourite major, being in the Asia Pacific neighbourhood and, more importantly, home to Little Bourke Street and surrounds. Melbourne, she says, has ''the best Chinatown, so if we want to eat something we know exactly where to find the food''.

All that's missing, then, is the Daphne Akhurst Memorial Cup, which Azarenka will try to defend, again, and Serena Williams to raise for a sixth time. Li thought she could win it last year, and so very nearly did. ''But Azarenka was there, so nothing you can do,'' she shrugs, agreeably. ''I already try my best, so I wish I can do it next time.''